


Blue Christmas

by deeinthetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeinthetardis/pseuds/deeinthetardis
Summary: All you want for Christmas is to spend the holidays with The Doctor.





	Blue Christmas

You sighed, putting the last Christmas ornament on the green tree in front of you. No matter how glum you were this holiday, you had to admit: the tree really was beautiful this year. Your dad picked out a lovely one. It reached the ceiling with different colored lights wrapped all around it, some gold tinsel, and some silver, blue, red and green ornaments on it. The Christmas baubles stood out most of all, but the ones you loved most were the five different colored hummingbirds in remembrance of your grandmother. And of course the blue and red the shone the most. There was a picture of your mother in the center, with the words “love” “remember” and “mother” all around in silver cursive. 

Your father put his Christmas record on the gramophone you got him last year. He had loved his records, and knowing that you could get him anything his heart desired, you picked music. It’s something both of you had always bonded over, especially since your mother’s passing. He could never afford such an extravagant purchase, and you knew he’d never treat himself to such a luxury. Not when he loved seeing the smile on your face when you opened something spectacular. It’s not that the gifts he’d give you were horribly expensive. They were just thoughtful, always perfect. Last year, it was a golden locket with your favorite picture of your mother. You had only taken the necklace off to shower all year. 

But this Christmas was different. You had been traveling with The Doctor for two years now, and that was part of the reason you could get your father that gramophone. It was a genuine antique, taken from Frank Sinatra’s private collection. The Doctor had said he was a close friend, and you ended up having something called mulled wine in his home. It seemed to be a completely pleasant affair in your opinion, a change from the constant adventures you’d been having all year that usually ended with just barely escaping with both of your lives. Sinatra detailed a time where The Doctor saved his life from very robotic creatures. “Cybermen,” The Doctor mouthed with a wink. Sinatra mentioned that he owed him his life. In fact, you couldn’t think of any friend of The Doctor’s that he hasn’t saved one time or another.

Of course The Doctor would never think of it that way. The Doctor saves people because he enjoys it, because he genuinely loves helping. Not because he wants people to owe him a favor. Nevertheless, you eyed the multiple record players all lined up just around the fireplace. Each more beautiful than the next. They were clean, polished. You could tell he really cherished them. And then you thought about your dad, who absolutely adored Sinatra almost as much as your mother. He bought himself a cheap record player a few years ago, but he could always be found scrolling on eBay, looking at vintage gramophones and records. 

You went from a small town life of going to the diner every Sunday night, eating a sandwich and sharing a piece of pie with your father, serving coffee at your local Starbucks just to save to move out, to going on impossible adventures with the best man you know. And of course when you have nothing else to do, you get lost in a good book. Usually fantasy. Amazing adventures, sword fights and worlds of magic you could only dream of. But when you met The Doctor, all of those dreams came true. Every time you looked out into the stars and saw something beautiful, you couldn’t help but whisper, “magic” under your breath.  
To which The Doctor always replied, “Magic is just science that we don’t understand yet.”

As you watched your father spread out the ladder and walk up each rung, you couldn’t help but wish The Doctor was here with you. You knew that The Doctor didn’t do holidays or family, but the thought of him drinking your dad’s jingle juice, eating your warm chocolate chip cookies and being his normal grumpy self warmed your heart. He had never met your father and you were almost certain your father thought he was entirely made up. It didn’t sit well with you knowing that you were warm inside your house stuffing your face with cookies, listening to a Christmas Sinatra album with your father, about to exchange presents when The Doctor was alone in the tardis, probably tinkering with some device or reading something in his library.

You handed the Christmas angel to your father. It was a beautiful but clear angel who holds out a bright and shining star. He smiled at you and put it atop the tree. “Thank you darlin’,” he said as he climbed down from the ladder and gave you a tight hug. “Is something wrong? You don’t seem your normal cheery Christmas self.”

Christmas was your favorite time of year by far. Just four years ago, your mother, her sister, grandmother and father would all be gathered by the fireplace, you drinking cranberry juice or hot chocolate, them drinking your father’s jingle juice or perhaps some hot buttered rum that your mother would mix up. It really was a family affair. Your family had never been large, but always close. Since your mother passed, one side of the family had grown apart from each other. Christmas never used to be lonely. The reality is that lately you had been lonely whenever The Doctor was too far away. You depended on him, and you hoped a small part of him depended on you. 

“I just -- I just wish The Doctor was here. That’s all.” You gave your best fake smile, hoping it would fool your dad. But it never did. He could always tell when you were bluffing.

The two had never met, but you always talked about him. The only explanation you could think of was that you traveled together. Paris, London, Africa, any country that you had ever wanted to go to. Each culture more interesting than the next. Some of those stories you told him were even real. Actually, most of them were. You just left out the stories of meeting Jane Austen, Marsha P. Johnson and Frank Sinatra. God, he would go crazy if he knew that you met Sinatra. Sometimes you thought of the adventures you could have if The Doctor agreed to bring him on just once. You never asked though, because you were deathly afraid of rejection. Especially from him.

“I wish he would come around. It’s not right that I’ve never met him. I’m your father and I’ve never met the man you travel with almost 24/7.” You let out a large sigh as you knew he was happy for you. You never liked living in such a small town and wanted to travel badly. Your father would take you out of state every now and then because it was all he could afford, but he knew deep down that you just wanted to experience cultures that weren’t your own. Although he was happy about that aspect, you knew he didn’t completely approve of him, probably because he looked a lot older than you. If he only knew how much.

You sat down on the couch, tapping your cranberry-painted nails on the coffee table. “He just doesn’t like holidays.. That’s all. Sort of a rough time I imagine.” He’s mentioned to you that he had a whole family back on Gallifrey. So you couldn’t completely blame him for not wanting to be around this time of year. Or wanting to meet your dad. Still, it hurt that the person most important to you wasn’t here.

“I see. Well. I’m gonna check on dinner.”

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a few warm cookies you made, piling on the jammie dodgers you made specially for him, and pouring some tea into a tumbler. “I’m just gonna step outside for a moment,” you muttered quickly, turning around so he wouldn’t see what was in your hands. You rushed out the door, walking just two streets down. The tardis was inconspicuously parked just a few blocks down from your favorite diner. You opened the tardis doors, seeing The Doctor using a screwdriver -- an actual screwdriver, not just a sonic one on something that looked like a cyberman head. “HA! And it works!” The Doctor proclaimed. “Genius,” he muttered.

“Uh, what is that Doctor?”

“Don’t you get it? It’s a Cyberman coffee pot! We can drink coffee out of a Cyberman now!”

“Riiight.” You stopped to think. This is what he was doing on Christmas? Christmas was supposed to be filled with family, alcohol and presents. Not screwdrivers and dead Cyberman heads. “Anyway, I brought you some food and tea.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your dad?” He got up off of the tardis floor, taking the plate of cookies and tea, setting the tea down on the console and munching on a jammie dodger. 

“Yeah, he’s just cooking dinner.. so I came to see if you had eaten.” You looked down at your feet, something you always did when you lied. Plus, if you looked him in the eye, he’d probably see everything. See that you desperately wanted him to come to your house for dinner, to meet your dad, and more than anything you just wanted a hug from him because you hadn’t seen him in over two days. Which was far too long for your standards. You constantly traveled with him, breaking only to let the tardis rest and recharge.

“Thank you. Jammie dodgers are my favorite.” He gave you a small smile and still not having the courage to look at him, you turned on your feet.

“I know,” is all you said and immediately you exited the tardis. You started walking back to your house, kicking a rock out of the way. It was a mistake to see him, even if only to give him some of the cookies you made. Because now you really were sad. A tear fell down your cheek and immediately wiping it away, you felt stupid. It wasn’t personal at all. It’s not because he didn’t want to spend time with you. In fact, he would have wanted to go on some weird planet called Raxacoricofallapatorius. 

When you got home, you shut the door behind you and leaned on it for a while, trying to gather yourself. “Something wrong?” The Doctor’s voice sounded.

You turned around as quick as you could, almost getting dizzy from it. “W-What are you doing here, Doctor?”

The Doctor was showing my father a few properly ancient records from his collection, and of course my father was eating it up. “You invited me over for Christmas, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but you said you didn’t do Christmas.” You were trying your hardest not to smile, not to give him the pleasure, but it was the hardest thing you had to do all week. 

“I changed my mind. It was probably the jammie dodgers.” He gave you a small smirk, following your father into the dining room. 

Dinner was a success. They talked music, arts, and literature they both loved. They got along great, and you could even tell he wasn’t faking being nice. Being nice doesn’t come easy to The Doctor. It’s a private rule of his that he has to offend at least two people in every room he enters. You let the two talk uninterrupted, only stopping to laugh and make a comment or two about adventures they’d had.

As your father finished up the dishes, you both sat next to each other on the couch. You had given him a glass of your mother’s famous hot buttered rum with a single cinnamon stick in it. You sipped on some more jingle juice, plopping a cranberry into your mouth. As your father walked into the room, The Doctor handed you a small gift wrapped in blue paper with stars all on it. It looked like what you see every night you open the tardis doors. “I got you something.”

“Really?” You beam, unraveling the paper to find a little brown box. You open it, finding a black jewelry gift box with gold trim. You slowly open it, savoring this perfect moment. Your eyes focus on a beautiful necklace, a blue tardis with small diamonds encrusted all over. It was perfect. “It’s beautiful.. I love it.” You turn to him, a bright small on my face. “Thank you so much, Doctor.”

He gives a smile back. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. Here, let me put it on you.” He opens the clasp, moving your blown out hair to the side of your shoulder. The Doctor wraps the necklace around your neck, closing the clasp and letting it fall on your chest. The necklace falls slightly lower than the one that your father got you last year. It was the most perfect gift you’ve ever gotten. The necklaces represented everything you loved. Your mother, your father, the tardis and The Doctor. 

“This is the best Christmas ever.” You gave him another smile as your father sat down and eyed the necklace. You guessed he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Is that a police box?” 

“Yes,” The Doctor replied, giving a little smirk. “Just an inside joke.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.” Your father reached around the couch and handed you a gift wrapped in red gift wrap with green Christmas trees all on it.

You started unwrapping. One of your favorite parts about Christmas was giving gifts, but you never could wait to see the perfect gift your father gives you. It’s always so thoughtful. As you unwrap, your father explains. “I know you think scrapbooking is corny, but you can put all the pictures from your camera on it. When you’re old like me, you’re going to want to remember all of the impossible adventures you have.”

“Thank you, dad. It’s absolutely perfect as usual.” You leaned over to give him a big kiss on the cheek. It was perfect. Usually you were always too busy running with The Doctor to stop and document what you did, what you accomplished. 

As you finished the night up, you couldn’t help but think about your father’s comment. The Doctor would continue living his life while you aged. While you got old. While his age might change, while his face might change, he’d never become truly old and decrepit. But you would some day. Would he really want to tote an old woman around with him?

It was already midnight, and your father had already said goodnight. We had desert, a few more cocktails, and had even played some card games. It was an amazing night, and it was all thanks to The Doctor. “Come on, I’ll show you the guest room.” Part of you thought that he would just go back to the tardis, but he followed you down the hall.

He grabbed your arm, stopping you in the hallway. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

You nodded, a smile spreading on your face. “Yeah. I really did.” You bit your lip, looking at your feet again.

“But?”

“But… I just.. I just wonder what happens when I’m old and you still look young.”

He gave a chuckle. “I don’t think I look young.”

“Not this time,” you corrected. “But there’s nothing wrong with you. You can run and fight and you barely need sleep. And if you ever really do get hurt, you can regenerate.”

He stared at you for a minute, trying to sum up all of your feelings. “I think you view our friendship differently than I do.”

You nodded, staring at your feet again. You braced yourself for the hurt feelings, for the tears.

“I travel with you not because you run fast or because you fight hard. I don’t love you because of what you can do. I can’t lie.. your strength and curiosity made me want to travel with you. But the reason I love to travel with you is because you’re a person I can be proud of to have in my life. No matter how old you get, no matter what happens to either of us..” He stops himself, taking a breath. “I’d travel with you forever if I could.”

You smiled at your feet, looking up. “I know you hate them, but-”

He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped both arms around your torso, hugging you tightly. “Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! you can find me on tumblr and request any fic you'd like. [right here.](https://deeinthetardis.tumblr.com/)


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